Time Limits
by aftercolony
Summary: USA/UK , AU -- A country split between North and South caught in the middle of a civil war, two very different childhood friends meet on the battlefield and the emotions and events that lead after that will change both of their futures dramatically.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Time Limits (1/?)  
**Series:** Axis Powers Hetalia  
**Pairing:** America/England, with various parings in the future  
**Warnings:** This is my first try at an AU Hetalia fic. This is an own little world I've created in the middle of a civil war-- think of it as an alternate reality with a world similar to what WW2 was like technology and culture wise.  
**Rating:** PG (for now) for war-time, battles and language. Use of minimal magic powers. Human names only.  
**Summary:** A country split between North and South caught in the middle of a civil war, two very different childhood friends meet on the battlefield and the emotions and events that lead after that will change both of their futures dramatically.

* * *

Arthur Kirkland took a moment to pull at his dark jacket pulled over his deep red uniform, white gloves smudged with dirt from drawing summoning circles along the ground. They'd been at this for hours and it had seemed as though the battle was only just beginning, the sun already at its highest point in the sky.

He walked slowly along the dirt covered ground, his fellow comrades keeping their distance from him. Well he was an 'alchemist,' which meant they usually wanted next to nothing to do with him outside of the battle. The name was ironic really, because what he did was nothing more a weak form of black magic than anything dealing with the equivalent exchange of matter; but who wanted to go in to war bringing along witches and warlocks or what have you. No one, this was supposed to be 'reality,' so the government gave them an improper label, supplied them with the few things they needed on the battlefield and placed them into a regiment with no room for an argument.

He never thought he'd hate this power he'd come into since he was a boy. He remembered playing with drawing different circles, creating little things to amuse that particular boy with bright blue eyes who'd constantly beg him to do more tricks. Arthur considered for a moment whatever happened to that childhood friend of his, it was possible he had moved to the South before the country had split apart in this civil war. That boy would probably hate his little tricks now.

"Alchemist, get your ass over here! The Southern troops are on the move!" The gruff voice of his commanding officer shook him from such melancholic thoughts.

"Yes sir!" He ran forward quickly and knelt on the ground, sketching out a large circle with chalk before placing his hands inside. He mumbled a quick incantation as the circle glowed and a large Gatling gun appeared before him.

He stepped back as men crowed the weapon, loading the gun and screaming out orders. This is how it always went and soon those men would be cursing at him for being so useless as the gun fell apart after about 10 minutes. That was the glitch in these powers him and the other alchemists held; there was always a time limit. The larger and more energy the item took, the quicker it deteriorated.

He had wondered if it was God's way in telling him magic wasn't to be used like this or possibly at all, but he was never a very religious man and decided to blame it on his powers just not being strong enough.

"Kirkland hurry up! We need that trench now!" The loud silvered haired commander barked out him as he turned to run.

"Right away Commander Weillschmidt!" He ran up to the other officer, surveying the area he began drawing out the appropriate circle and gun shots rang in his ears.

"Ha ha ha! I can see them now Kirkland. Their damn blue jackets stick out against burning buildings!"

Arthur just paid him no attention as he finished his job, jumping into the deep trench himself. It was only a little ground manipulation, this would last them a few hours at best. He pulled his pistol out from under his jacket as he ran along behind his fellow soldiers, a hand suddenly falling onto his shoulder.

"You look tired Arthur. Is the Commander pushing you too hard?"

"Oh shut up Francis." He scoffed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "It just takes a lot of energy to create something like this."

The other man sighed, pushing his gun up on his shoulder. He was about the only one in the whole regiment that seemed half-friendly with the shorter man, but Francis had to wonder if trying to be friends was worth all the rudeness he got in return.

Arthur finally stopped to pull himself out the trench, giving Francis a small wave as he began running to his appointed position on the outskirts of the city. All he had to to was create some distractions, blowing a few building up so the rest of the troops could make a surprise attack; it was nothing he hadn't done before.

There was the sound of a bomb in the distance as he ran close to the building trying to keep himself hidden as much as possible; one never knew when there could be snipers on the look out.

He made a fast turn around a corner, just a little further and he'd be deep enough into the old city to make his first attack.

"Stop!" There was a voice calling out to him then as he ducked into an alleyway and the sounds of footsteps running after him.

"Bloody hell, of all the times!" He cursed to himself as he continued running between the buildings; he wasn't in the mood to die here in this shitty town, that was for sure.

Just as he came to the opening of the street, he watched a blue clad body stop in front of him, gun in position to shoot him dead right there. He stopped, running a gloved hand down the rough side of the building; so this was it. He was going to die like a bitch without doing a damn thing...

"Just put your hands up on your head and walk forward!" The voice sounded young, though the wear of a long battle was obvious as Arthur did as he was ordered, moving towards the street with slow steps.

He stopped as the man motioned him out onto the sidewalk, the hat he was wearing obscuring this face as the gun remained pointed.

"I'm just an alchemist, I don't have any weapons." He spoke slowly and calming; considering his situation. Though there wasn't much he could to with a gun in his face.

After a few moments the taller man lowered his gun and quickly pulled off his cap, revealing bright blond hard and blue eyes hidden behind dirty and slight cracked frames. Why did this feel familiar?

"Ah! You're..." He other man smiled brightly then, cheeks smudged with dirt and gun powder. "Arthur! Is it really you?"

"Uh?" He dropped his hands slowly to his sides, this was weird. He didn't know anyone from the South, so how could this guy know him?

"Don't you remember me? I'm Alfred!"


	2. Chapter 2

He really needed a cigarette. How he had gotten into this odd situation was still racking his brain but he needed something to calm his nerves. Pulling off a glove with his teeth, he digged into his pocket for what was probably his last smoke and place it into his lips. Only then he had noticed he was out of matches.

"Bloody hell..."

"Need a lite?" The younger man in front of him raised a match box up, a little smile on his face.

"Yeah, thanks." He grabbed the box, lighting up as quick as his fingers would allow.

"You know, you shouldn't smoke Arthur. It's not healthy." The bastard was still giving him a little, almost cheeky smile and Arthur made sure to take a nice long drag just to spite him. This guy was the reason he felt so uneasy and why he was currently hiding out in some abandoned building rather than carrying out his mission.

This guy, his enemy, who all too cheerfully introduced himself as no other than Alfred F. Jones, was the last person he had ever expected to come face to face with in the middle of a battlefield. It was bad enough Arthur still remembered this fool like it was yesterday, he couldn't believe Alfred had bothered to keep his name logged somewhere in that brain of his after all these years.

"Like I give a damn. Let me at least have this little indulgence, would you?"

The blue-clad solider just shrugged, throwing his hands up in and exaggerated motion. "Fine! But don't come crying to me when you get black lung!" Though he didn't sound too concerned because he was still god damn Ismiling/i.

Arthur said nothing, looking out the open window as he savored the silence. Somehow, even though he hadn't seen Alfred since he was 11, things still felt oddly the same between them, like they'd never left. As irritated as he was, felt a little happy.

"Hey, Arthur." Alfred's voice pushed him out of his musings and he turned to watch the taller man stand from his little wooden chair right up to him, placing two gloved hands on his shoulders. "Ah, you're still as short as ever."

His face flushed with anger and embarrassment, slapping Alfred's annoying hands away. "And you're still as obnoxious as ever! You shouldn't be so tall..." He looked the other man over, scoffing. "You're four years younger than me!"

"Ah, what can I say?" His eyes winked as he put his hands to his hips. "I'm just that awesome."

"Oh sod off." He threw his butt on to the floor, stomping it with his shoe harder than needed. "Why did you take me here anyway?"

"Well we couldn't very well catch up in the middle of the street!" He said it so matter-of-factly, that was annoying in itself.

"That's not what I mean."

"Yeah..." His voice sudden dipped in enthusiasm as he eyes looked around the room. "But its not like I could have shot you either way."

Arthur sighed and ran a naked hand through his short hair, he really needed a bath. "Look, its nice to have this little reunion and all, but I sort of have a mission to go and carry out."

"You still doing those little magic tricks?" That smile returned Alfred's face, looking much too youthful for fighting a war.

"Ha, well they're not really tricks anymore. It's 'alchemy' and now I'm making machine guns for the military."

"So, that's what you are now?" His voice was a little flat.

"Yeah, that's what I am. I know the Southern Army doesn't take too kind to us who use these powers; they've probably told you all kinds of interesting propaganda."

"I..." His face fell a little, thinking, then shaking his head. "I don't think you're some sin against God just because you can use magic."

He wasn't really expecting Alfred to be so understanding, he really hadn't expected him to be at all. He'd never met anyone from the South who thought what he did was 'good.' "Well... thank you."

"You know, I didn't join the army just because I wanted to." Alfred continued, as if reading his mind of he questions that swam through it. "When my parents died five years ago, there was no where else for me to go expect enroll. My parents had left me nothing, the war has kept everyone poor..."

Arthur frowned lightly. Things were not all that much different for himself when he thought about it. Though his parents had died when he was 13 in an accident and the only one who would take him in was his cousin Francis. His perverted and annoying cousin was the reason he had ended up where he was now; not that he really held that against Francis, he just never got along with him much even before that. He tolerated him at best, even though Francis always prodded for more.

"There are lots of things we must do to survive it seems." He scuffed his boot over the dirty floor, trying not to let past memories overwhelm him.

"Arthur, can we, meet again?"

He turned to looked at his old friend, surprised at the suggestion. "What? Why?"

"Because we're friends, aren't we?"

"I, I guess we are."

Alfred smiled then, happy enough with that answer. "Here, this is the town I'll be close to this up coming week. I wrote down the name of this great restaurant I go to for lunch. I'll be there. Come if you can get away, I want to catch up under some better surroundings." He gave that handsome smile again, pushing the worn piece of paper into Arthur's hand and stepped back. "I guess we both should end this here then. I'm so glad to see you again, all 5 feet of you." He laughed.

"You know very well I am not Bthat/b short!"

Alfred only laugh again, pulling his gun over his shoulder. "I hope to see you again soon." He waved and turned, and Arthur just remembered seeing a blur of blue before he blinked and asked himself had that really happened? Yes. The note was still there in his hand.

//////

When Arthur finally returned back to their temporary base, Commander Gilbert Weillschmidt was there to give him an earful full on keeping the mission on track and on time. He gave a quick excuse, a lie of sorts, that he'd been spotted by the enemy and had to hide out for awhile. He received a scowl as punishment and was waved away with nothing more.

"So what happened out there?" Francis was there beside him as he walked off from the Commander's tent.

"I was spotted by the enemy, had to hide out."

"I see... well be more careful. You know you still have to give me that double date you promised!" Arthur rolled his eyes as he walked away, he shouldn't have agreed to that bet during their game of poker. Now he'd have to go on some date with one of those loose women Francis constantly "dated."

Arthur made it back to his own tent, laying down and throwing off his gloves, holding up the tattered piece of paper in his hands. He didn't know why did hadn't told anyone about this... that Southern trooped would be near Kitmesh for the next week and that there would be a solider they could easily capture to get information out of.

Arthur also didn't understand why he looked forward to seeing Alfred again, but he didn't let that stop him from falling into a deep sleep that night.


End file.
